The Beach House Three, Four, Five
by periwinkled
Summary: Apparently, at some point, she had managed to memorize the way the man smelled, a thought that so antagonized her that she actually growled. Sean grasped her upper arms to steady her, and then raised an amused eyebrow at the sound she made. "Coffee?"
1. Polar Bear Swim

Disclaimer: I have no claim on Nikita or its characters.

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><p>He was always in her way. In the house, at Division, even in her goddamn head. Alex was sick of it.<p>

Sean wasn't really with them, he insisted. He was sympathetic to their cause, and though he wasn't quite as vehement in his hatred of Division as the rest of them were, he did hold it in pretty high contempt. As Nikita was never one to look a gift ally in the mouth, somehow that had led to him becoming a sort of pinch hitter for their team. Birkhoff referred to him as their "Dial-a-SEAL."

Alex wasn't entirely sure why his presence irritated her, but she knew it did. He was handy in a fight, so it wasn't that. She still hadn't forgiven him for using her to get to Nikita, that was all. Seeing him all the time wasn't helping her get over it.

One morning she stumbled into the kitchen, seeking coffee. Birkhoff, sitting nearby at his ops station, muttered good morning to her. She muttered a response, turned to the coffee maker, and ran face-first into Sean's chest. Despite the fog of sleep still clinging to her brain, she recognized that it was he immediately. Apparently, at some point, she had managed to memorize the way the man smelled, a thought that so antagonized her that she actually growled.

Sean grasped her upper arms to steady her, and then raised an amused eyebrow at the sound she made. "Coffee?"

"No," she snapped.

"No?" Birkhoff looked up, surprised. "Isn't it, like, your life blood?"

She shook off Sean's hands and stomped towards the back door. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in the ocean."

The ocean was one of those things that she'd never really thought about as a girl, as it her family hadn't exactly taken weekend trips to the seaside. She'd learned to love it since she'd begun spending time at the beach house, however. It was something entirely new to her, and, as it was the Atlantic Ocean, it was cold. She'd found that an early morning swim in the sea could jolt her awake as well as the strongest coffee. She grabbed the wetsuit by the back door (it had appeared there one day—she didn't know from where—after she'd come in blue-lipped and shivering a few times) and plunged out into the white New Jersey morning.

Wearing the wetsuit dulled the shock to her system somewhat, but it also meant that she could swim longer. She stoked the length of their private beach until her brain cleared enough for her to think, then turned over and considered the waking sky, letting the salt water float her. Life was complicated for their little group. Percy was out in the world scheming to get Division back, and with one black box left (albeit in the hands of Gogol), Oversight (significantly reduced) still couldn't afford to take divisive action against him, and neither could Nikita's crew.

The Beach House Three, as Birkhoff had named them, was focusing on recovering the black box from the Russians and thwarting Percy whenever they could. They were rarely three these days, however. Alex's drive for revenge had stalled while she figured out what to do about her mother, so she was often present. And then there was Sean.

They'd tussled with Percy's men (led by the ever-faithful Roan) last night, which was why she and Sean were still here this morning. She needed to get a bead on why he was really pitching in (it couldn't be as simple as a hero complex), though hell if she knew why it was so important.

The sky was getting brighter, so she made her way back to the shore. She started to peel off her wetsuit so she could change back into her sweats, but stopped when she noticed Sean sitting on the sand. Getting down to her underwear within view of the house she was apparently fine with, but this was too close for comfort.

Sean sipped his coffee contemplatively. "You can change. I won't look."

Alex started to bite out a sarcastic response, and then realized that she believed him. Honor was all to Sean Pierce. If he said he wouldn't look, then he wouldn't. And besides, the wetsuit was uncomfortable.

"Can you look that way at least?" Alex gestured away from herself, towards the far end of the beach. She moved quickly when Sean complied. Dressed, she turned back to the house, and then found herself joining him in the sand. "Thanks."

He nodded and looked back towards the horizon.

"Is it very different?" Sean gave her a questioning look and she clarified. "The Pacific Ocean, I mean. Is it very different from this one?"

"Why are you asking me about the Pacific Ocean?"

"Oh, come on, Sean. You're not the only one who can read files." Not that she had the clearance to access his, but Birkhoff had been curious, too. "Son of the California senator, spent his summers in a house by the sea." She sent him a sly look. "Were you a surfer, too?"

He gave a short laugh. "I will neither confirm nor deny. But, yes, it's different. At the very least, the shoreline I grew up with is different from this one."

"Do you miss it?"

"Do you miss Russia?"

Alex thought about it. "I'm not sure. I miss my home. It was one thing when I remembered it as the smoldering pile of ashes, my parents' graves. But now…seeing it rebuilt, seeing my mother in it? I do miss it. The rest of Russia? I don't know." She laughed, briefly. "It's pretty cold."

Sean smiled. "That it is."

They fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts as they considered the water.

"Why are you here, Sean? With us, I mean. What's in it for you?"

Sean glanced at her, then back at the water. "You look cold. Feel like breakfast? I make a passable omelet."

Alex resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He hadn't given her a straight answer on the issue so far, so why had she thought he would today? Because they'd talked about the ocean? "Sure. Make me an omelet, soldier."

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><p>AN: Hello. I am not 100% sure where this is going yet, so bear with me? I just have things in my head and needed to get them out. I'm not very concerned with staying faithful to the show at this point, I just decided to take a point in time where Sean could conceivably be hanging with Nikita's people and run with it. That makes this a little AU, I suppose. We'll see how that goes. I'm not sure whether this will work like a continuous story or a series of vignettes, either. What do y'all think? If vignettes are cool, you'll probably get new stuff faster, as I already have a few composed. If you have thoughts, let me know! Thanks!


	2. Go Fish

Disclaimer: I have no claim on Nikita or its characters.

"Do you have any eights?"

Alex consulted her hand. "Go fish."

"Damn." Birkhoff reached for the central pile.

"I still can't believe this is the best card game you could think of."

"Can't argue with the classics."

"Yes," Alex informed him, "you can."

It was a rare moment of downtime at the beach house. Nikita was sitting nearby, tapping away on a laptop. Alex was curious about what she was working on, but had learned that with Nikita, it was best to wait. She would inform them in her own time, and not before. She could tell that Birkhoff was operating under the same guidelines, but it wasn't stopping him from glancing her way in curiosity every few minutes.

The house beeped a warning, and then Michael came in from outside. He was still breathing hard from his run, but he gasped out a laugh at the sight of them. "Is this what it's come to in our super secret spy base? Go fish?"

"It was Birkhoff's idea." Alex said immediately.

Without looking up from his hand, Birkhoff shrugged. "I got tired of watching Miss All Work and No Play assemble and disassemble the same damn gun." He nodded towards a nearby table, where a Ruger 22 Charger lay in pieces. It was the same kind of gun she'd used to kill Anton Kuchenko, but Alex kept that bit of trivia to herself.

"Ah." Michael walked to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. "You know, I've been wondering. The night that Percy escaped, when we were at Gates House. How did Gogol get there so fast?"

"You think they have someone inside Division." Nikita looked up from her laptop.

Michael drank his water, and then nodded. "I do. But—"

"You also think they have a nearby base of operations."

His gazed honed in on Nikita. "You've considered it?"

She nodded. "I think I may have found it."

Michael's "What?" clashed with Birkhoff's "Without me?" as they all gathered around to look at Nikita's laptop.

She sent Birkhoff an amused glance. "You realize I did just fine on this end of things before you joined up."

Birkhoff struggled not to appear as deeply offended as he clearly felt, and failed. "You did _okay._"

"We acknowledge you're the best, now smooth your feathers." Alex nodded at Nikita. "Let's see it."

"I think it's someplace in New York. Birkhoff, I'd like you to take a look and see if you come to the same conclusion using your methods."

Mollified, Birkhoff settled in front of his small wall of monitors and started tapping away.

"Why didn't you mention this to me?" Michael asked Nikita in an undertone. Alex backed off, giving them their privacy.

She was contemplating taking the Ruger apart again when Birkhoff gave a triumphant shout. "You got it?" She peered over his shoulder at the satellite image on the screen.

"Zee Russians have invaded—" he cried in an exaggerated accent, finishing in his normal voice "—Brighton Beach."

Alex gave him a gimlet eye. "Really? Is that how we sound to you?"

"Well, _you_ don't."

"Thanks. I think."

"Let's see it." Nikita and Michael joined them at the monitors.

"It wasn't hard at all. They're not…subtle, the Russians."

"They certainly weren't that night. They'd never have gotten the drop on us if we hadn't had Percy to contend with." Michael's scowl conveyed his feelings on that matter.

"I, uh, _found_ some sat footage of the Gates House. It helped that all our favorite enemies were watching, too. Then it was fairly simple to track them back to home base. No guarantee whether they're still there, though."

"Show us anyway," Michael said.

"Right-o." Birkhoff brought up a property that wasn't too different from their own—a large, secluded beach house.

"Is it occupied?" Alex asked.

Birkhoff shook his head. "Can't tell. I'll hold the satellite as long as I can and monitor."

"We need to do more than that." Nikita straightened. "We need to case the joint."

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><p>AN: Short one. Little linear connection. No Sean (I'll make it up to you, I PROMISE), but some Alex/Birkhoff banter. I love Alex/Birkhoff banter, and I hope you do too.


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